


Come Find Me

by AlyxStar



Series: Lost You Somewhere [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6240976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyxStar/pseuds/AlyxStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke visiting Fenris in his dreams as she traverses the Fade</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Find Me

**Author's Note:**

> So the prompt (found on the tumblr blog fenhawkearchive) was:
> 
> "Hawke visiting Fenris in his dreams as she traverses the fade. ‘Come find me when you wake up,’ she smiled."
> 
> I decided to take a bash at it.

Magic like rust and blood, sticky and _thick_ , running wicked as Hadriana's grin along his brands, igniting them white-hot and **painful**. Despite his best efforts a sound escapes him, a cut off groan, and he internally winces with such a break in obedience. As expected the magic slicking through the network of lyrium turns vicious and cold, coiling tight at his chest and _pulling_. He screams, cannot stop it even if he wanted to, back arching in time to the bladed hook attempting to split his ribcage wide. His Master smiles.

Then it is gone, the occupants of the room, the restraints, the stifling _bloodlust_. Only the dull throbbing along his bones and white pulses up and down the brands confirm the lack of fault in his memory. Grey wisps rise up from his feet, the ground's colour an indistinct thing, the terrain (when did he stand up?) uneven and without proper substance. Wet and clumpy as the sand on the Wounded Coast one minute, hot as sun-baked Seheron rock the next. The air crackles, heavy in his lungs, stinging at his eyes, shot through with green and mist. He _knows_ this place, had hoped to never set foot in it again, where he had turned his blade against friends and nearly rendered Hawke tranquil. All in one moment of weakness.

He shudders, stamping down on the memory of her cry, the blood streaked on his blade as he readied an overhead swing, so ready to ki-

"Wolf!"

He spins, so fast he nearly topples over as the ground shifts again, and the hand that grasps onto his forearm to steady him is very warm and _real_. Impossible. Undeniable.

" _Hawke_?" Her name is butchered, strangled in his throat by the lump there. This is not the Hawke he remembers, the straight-backed woman kissing their sleeping daughter goodbye, face stern and eyes a world of pain when they clasped hands, locked fingers. Clad in well-kept armour and hair braided high on her head. No, this Hawke is weary, exhaustion weighting down limbs, slowing the fingers as they release him one by one. Her hair in wild disarray around her face, tangled and matted with all manner of things. There is a clotted wound on her forehead, slicing neatly through her left eyebrow, her lip split, favouring her right leg and there are marks on her _neck_ above the bashed steel and ruined leather.

"What has happened to you? Is this real?" She smiles at him, and when blood trickles down her chin he wipes at it with the pad of his thumb, cannot help himself when he reaches up to smear it over the bridge of her nose. Laughter, clear as Chantry bells tolling the hour. _Hawke_. It has to be her, no memory or demon could mimic the sound.

"As real as anything in the Fade ever is. Listen, I can get out, there are Rifts all over the place that haven't been shut yet. I need the Inquisitor's help to get out, since she helped me get in. Go to - _shit_!" She twists, her Father's staff twirled once before the blade slams down, a spray of ice arcing in front of her. There is a shriek of pain, and what he suspects is a half-formed Shade explodes in a cloud of dust. He hauls his greatsword over his shoulder but Hawke sweeps in front of him, turns side-on. The staff blocks his path, her free hand held out and spitting tongues of blue fire at things he cannot see.

"There's still a Rift in the Hinterlands, it's the closest one. Go, now! Tell the Inquisitor!"

"Hawke-"

"Come find me when you wake up. But you must go. _Now_!"

His hand connects with her staff, ducking under before she can bar him again, and maybe twenty paces away demons are forming in great flurries of green energy. He bellows in challenge, hefting his blade and shouldering by Hawke to take point as he has done so many times before-

Invisible force wraps around him like a fist, just shy of painful and absolute. He knows this magic, usually fetches up against it in impenetrable barrier form, never used _against_ him. It yanks him back, clean off his feet and hurtling without means of stopping. The brands ignite in outrage, but they are useless here where magic rules and in a moment he is cast aside to the Fade's tide, spinning, falling.

" **You will not have him!** "

_The Hinterlands_.

* * *

Fenris wakes.


End file.
